Friday, May 1, 2015

Fitbit what? an introspective

SFWG checking in. Finally. Fortunately, we've established I'm a terrible blogger. I have so many things to say but then I get lost in the words and suddenly its 2 years later and I'm an asshole and I'm sorry. Let's get to the point of this, shall we? ( Also, I frequent tumblr, and post a bunch of random shit there, not quite as personal as here, and I reblog things that interest me. I'm there at Orionswatcher.tumblr.com )

Fitbit what? An Introspection

I joined a fitbit challenge at work. My partner loaned me the use of her wobble board. It’s sort of like those round hard plastic discs with the ball in the middle you were supposed to jump around on, only I never actually managed to jump around, only fall on my face.. Or ass. Or elbows. Or knees. I spent a lot of time on the ground because of those things. Man. Anyway, I’ve gone off on a memory tangent and that wasn’t my goal. The wobble board is supposed to mimic you walking in place. It does NOT have a round rubber ball in the center, thank all the gods, just another rounded piece of hard plastic, and I’ve managed to not fall off it. I did, however, manage to use it as intended, and my ass and thighs hurt for it. I’m hoping this challenge will push me to make smarter, healthier choices on the things I eat.

I’m an emotional eater, and I binge with it. I’m upset? Hrm, I think I’m going to eat a pizza or two. Or three. Oh, what, you are mad at me for something I didn’t do? I think it’s time for some haagen daaz, and not the pint. Congratulations, you won an award! Score! Let’s go get half price apps at Applebees, and I’ll eat 3 of them for the price of a meal, plus dessert. I am fully aware my emotional binge eating hurts myself far more than anyone else, and I am also aware of the reasons for it.

I was homeless not to long ago, ( 8 years ago, but it feels like yesterday), and I was starving. When I moved here, when I finally called my mom and begged her to come and get me or send me bus fare to get home to her from the homeless shelter I was in with my oldest son 10 hours away from her, I was a very unhealthy for me 124 pounds. I have a very small bone structure, but it isn’t attractive when you can see all the bones in it. My healthy weight is about 130, 135. You wouldn’t think those 5-10 pounds would make a difference, but they really, really do at that weight for me.

As time moved on and I became more stable, I ate what I wanted, when I wanted, without regard for the consequences.

Because I could.

Because I had it in my fridge, or cupboards, and damnit I worked my ass off to be able to go buy more.

I frequented thrift stores and bought clothes, and dishes, and pots and pans, and books, and knick knacks and STUFF, because when you are a homeless, you lose everything. Everything.

I am significantly better than I was, and am actually cleaning for a yard sale now, because I’m finally at a point where I recognize I don’t need so much stuff to be safe, to be stable. I know HOW to be healthy, it’s just a matter of doing it. My ultimate goal is to hit the 135 pound again. Which leaves me 100 pounds lighter than today. Long way to go, but I’ve done it before, and can do it again.